


Donuts and Diatribes

by MovesLikeBucky



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Apologies to the donuts they didn't ask for this, Blow Jobs, Crowley's Temptations go Awry Yet Again, M/M, ill-advised use of baked goods
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:55:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24971917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MovesLikeBucky/pseuds/MovesLikeBucky
Summary: “Crowley, what on Earth are you playing at?” Aziraphale asks, hands on his hips, but his eyes hungry either way.“Can’t a demon lounge on a sofa?  Is that illegal suddenly?”“Crowley you are naked on my sofa, and you have… have…” Aziraphale trails off, gesticulating at Crowley’s nether regions, where three perfectly formed and glazed chocolate donuts reside on his erect cock.---Or, the one where Crowley attempts a joke of a temptation and it backfires on him in the best possible way.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 48
Kudos: 205





	Donuts and Diatribes

**Author's Note:**

> I have no excuses for this. None whatsoever. Apparently there was a thing in the events server with donuts today, and it spilled over into a group dm. I don't even go there? How did this happen? Who knows!
> 
> Have some erotic donut eating, you're welcome.

“Oh, good _Lord._ ”

Suffice to say the surprise had worked. Aziraphale hadn’t been in when Crowley came round the bookshop that day, and, well, if you leave a demon to his own devices. 

“Crowley, what on Earth are you playing at?” Aziraphale asks, hands on his hips, but his eyes hungry either way.

“Can’t a demon lounge on a sofa? Is that _illegal_ suddenly?”

“Crowley you are _naked_ on my sofa, and you have… have…” Aziraphale trails off, gesticulating at Crowley’s nether regions, where three perfectly formed and glazed donuts reside on his erect cock. 

“Don’t be like that, angel!” Crowley says with a wiggle of his hips, before putting on a sing-song voice, “ _I got chocolate, I know they’re your favorite._ ”

Aziraphale’s eyes go dark as he licks his lips and Crowley congratulates himself on a temptation well done. Before he can make any smart quips he finds himself pinned to the couch, two strong hands holding down his shoulders.

Aziraphale can be quick as lightning when he wants to be, and Crowley already knows he’s miscalculated this risk. Aziraphale trails kisses down his bare chest, biting down and then lathing his tongue over the marks. Making his way down at an agonizingly slow pace.

“Angel!” Crowley’s hands come up to tangle in Aziraphale’s hair, but Aziraphale grabs his wrists.

“Dearest, you went through all the trouble to get me this lovely treat, I’d be remiss if you didn’t just lie back and watch me enjoy it,” he says with the most angelic smirk possible, “after all, we know how much you enjoy watching me eat.” At this he licks some frosting off the first donut, tongue just barely brushing the tip of Crowley’s cock as he does. He’s so tantalizingly close but so far away. Crowley is always powerless against Aziraphale’s requests, so he swallows hard and lies back, balling his fists at his sides.

Aziraphale takes his time, because of course he does. Always one to savor, always one to enjoy. Crowley does his best to stay still as a statue, to not buck his hips while Aziraphale enjoys the donuts. He hadn’t been expecting this, this slow and decadent descent into madness.

Aziraphale finishes the donuts and immediately swallows Crowley’s cock to the hilt. The texture of the glaze still on his tongue rough against the underside of it. Crowley’s orgasm comes all too quickly after that, and Aziraphale swallows it down.

Aziraphale sits back up, looking just as buttoned up and put together as he had when he’d walked in, save for a bit of chocolate on his face. A wave of his hand and he’s dabbing a napkin at his mouth as though he’d just finished off a nice tiramisu.

“Well, that was scrumptious, quite a lovely snack, I must say.” His eyes sparkle as he says it. Crowley can’t even complain about this particular incarnation of Murphy’s Law.

He’s too busy planning to paint his body with chocolate ganache for next time.


End file.
